On the night Leo Stone returns—notionally from the dead, in reality from the Democratic Republic of the Congo—Cass Tuplin gets a call from Gary Kellett. A call about an actual dead person: Gary’s daughter, killed in a car crash. Gary’s adamant it wasn’t an accident.

Book Review:

Cass Tuplin has returned in second book DEAD MEN DON'T ORDER FLAKE. Proprietor of the recently rebuilt Rusty Bore Takeway, she's a fish, chip and dim sim dispenser extraordinaire with a sideline in private enquiries. Which means she's one of those slightly nosy women who can find out stuff, despite objections from her eldest son, and local Senior Constable, Dean. Her propensity to dig until dirt moves out of the way is part of the reason why a local father, Gary Kellett, asks her to look further into the death of his only daughter. Natalie was a journalist in the "big town up the road" Muddy Soak, and her death in a car accident at a notorious traffic blackspot was put down to poor driving, until Cass starts looking around, and Dean starts getting a bit huffy about the question marks over police conclusions.

Now you'd expect that an investigation like that would ruffle a few local feathers - not just Dean's - but Cass has the state of her own plumage to worry about as well. The return of presumed-dead, teenage heart-throb, and previous romantic interest is causing mild interest in lots of places. When Leo Stone casually wanders into the Rusty Bore Takeaway, acting like his twenty year disappearing act, and the headstone in the cemetery (incidentally organised by Cass) are just a blip in the timeline of their shared attraction, the questions over where he's actually been and what he's been up to fight for prominence with the questions about that car accident. To say nothing of what happened to a watch that went missing many years before.

Needless to say, if you hadn't worked it out from the blurb, this is a humorous, on the eccentric / cosy side, Australian rural series, set somewhere fictional in the Wimmera / Mallee of Victoria (in other words just up the road), populated by a mildly dotty crowd of locals with a track record (after two books) of death and destruction that is starting to feel like it could give Midsomer Murders a run for their money.

Told from Cass's viewpoint, the first book in the series, MURDER WITH THE LOT, did for self-deprecating humour what over-salting takeaway chips can do, but the balance in the second book is much better. There's still plenty of one-liners and a lot of wry observations, but they don't hold up advancement of plot, and Cass doesn't come across as quite the flake (pun only slightly intended) that she might have in the earlier novel. As with the earlier book, the investigation is only part of life - it goes up against the ongoing business workload, the problems with maintaining good relationships with two sons and their love interests, offers of more than friendship from the other shop-owner in town, and the need to be there for the older members of the community. And the long-lost love interest, now unencumbered by fiancé's, husbands, potential mothers-in-law, and the daftness of youth.

The plot here is good - with interwoven elements between the present and the past nicely held together with a combination of believability and local involvement to support that. There's also some good old fashioned motivations behind a lot of actions - money, power, prestige - human nature being what it is regardless of size of location. Lovers of dogs might also want to be aware that all's not well in that department, although a supporting cast of ferrets fare considerably better.

DEAD MEN DON'T ORDER FLAKE obviously comes from the entertaining side of crime fiction. It's central character is one of those women of a certain age, unencumbered by the constraints of expectation and "rules of behaviour" that age, experience and a certain level of "who gives a..." provides, eventually, to us all. The only downside to DEAD MEN DON'T ORDER FLAKE is personal as there are fish and chip shops in small Mallee towns that I have a lot of trouble going into without a bit of a giggle. Luckily last time I was in one, the bloke behind the counter didn't have red hair, and didn't have the slightest idea what I was laughing about.

On the night Leo Stone returns—notionally from the dead, in reality from the Democratic Republic of the Congo—Cass Tuplin gets a call from Gary Kellett. A call about an actual dead person: Gary’s daughter, killed in a car crash. Gary’s adamant it wasn’t an accident.

A smart, sassy self-appointed private investigator, Cass Tuplin is unforgettable and the town of Rusty Bore will never be the same...

Book Review:

MURDER WITH THE LOT is set in the fictional Mallee town of Rusty Bore, featuring Cass Tuplin, fish and chip shop owner, mother, and self-appointed private investigator. The story is told all from Cass's viewpoint, a viewpoint which is somewhat skewed towards a ... how should we put this ... less than realistic outlook. Not only is the Mallee still deep in the middle of the drought that just about broke everyone's spirit, but Rusty Bore is a town that's been hit particularly hard. Loss of people to the "Big Smoke" just down the road, loss of passing traffic, loss of money and even interest from the locals, means that Rusty Bore is quietly rusting to a close. Which doesn't stop Cass from opening the fish and chip shop daily, dolling out the dim sims and a hefty dose of nosiness to the few people she comes across. All the while barracking for her son the cop from the nearest town, and under-estimating her other son, the less successful activist, who comes and goes from the family home. Not that Cass hasn't had her fair share of disappointment, what with the sudden death of her beloved husband, and a passing recognition that there may not be a future in her current life.

Needless to say the storyline of MURDER WITH THE LOT is set up for humour. There are wise cracks and in jokes coming at the reader from all sides. There's the expected red-headed chip shop owner references, the mad mother stuff, the long-suffering son stuff, and the potential merger with the one-armed bloke that runs the General Store... stuff. There's also a lot of slapstick with accidental shootings, much rushing about, car's with non-working door's and love interests who might be a bit dodgy. And there's that good old chestnut - the disappearing body - to be toyed with for quite a long time.

Part of the problem with that sort of first-person viewpoint of everything is that the reader is really going to have to identify with Cass, and she is a very funny character. For a while. Until the point where the humour did seem to become somewhat heavy-handed and repetitive. Which was a pity, as there were ever such tiny glimpses of pathos and self-awareness that just occasionally managed to get their heads above the tide of jokes and thick skin of our Cass.

All of which probably sounds like I didn't really like this book, which isn't strictly true. The central plot was an interesting idea, and I'd be barracking for anything set out here in the bush which doesn't immediately make out that the whole place has mad, toothless locals lurking behind every saltbush just waiting for a city person to terrorise.... I think my real problem with MURDER WITH THE LOT is that I wasn't convinced that Cass needed to play the daft card quite as often as she did. Perhaps it's another book for fans of light-hearted crazy, with a crime at the centre that's less confrontational than you'd think what with shootings, and missing bodies and all. It is, however, probably a book for locals. I suspect overseas readers might be begging for a map, a dictionary of local terminology, a short course in the in-jokes, a compass and probably a tour guide...